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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616948">home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbadnotgood/pseuds/badbadnotgood'>badbadnotgood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, post 3x08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:59:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbadnotgood/pseuds/badbadnotgood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t tell you when I realised, I didn’t want the life I was told to want, but that I wanted you,” Eve says.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something vile turned in her gut when she’d walked away from Eve and when Eve did the same, like a gravitational pull that threatened to kill her like Konstantin’s heart palpitations if Eve ever got too far away. She wonders if Eve feels the same pull and that’s why she stopped and turned around.</p><p>She wonders so many things.</p><p>“I have to tell you something,” Eve shouts, awkward.</p><p>She walks, feet harsh on the concrete, heart in her throat.</p><p>“I have to tell you something, too.”</p><p>“You first.”</p><p>Villanelle pauses, takes a few breaths.</p><p>“There’s so much,” she says.</p><p>“I know,” Eve says. “I know.”</p><p>Then Eve’s bounding towards her, fur hood bobbing ridiculously with her curls. Does she not own another coat? She’s always wearing that thing, even on days that are too humid for it. Villanelle’s going to have to do something about that, take her shopping. Maybe Villanelle will let her pick, unless she grabs something quiet and ugly, then she’ll step in.</p><p>Eve’s mouth tastes of mint gum and lip balm, but underneath that, it’s all Eve. Warm and sweet, and Villanelle kisses her back, dizzy with it. She lets her eyes slip shut, grabs at the material of Eve’s coat and pulls, keeping her close.</p><p>Eve’s beautiful in the London lights, features chiselled and eyes bright, sparkling. Villanelle looks and Eve looks right back. Her warm breath hits Villanelle’s cheeks, comforting.</p><p>“I have to tell you at home,” Villanelle says.</p><p>She wants Eve to look at her like that forever: like she’s the only other person in the world.</p><p>“Then let’s go home,” Eve says.</p><p>*</p><p>The walk to Eve’s place drags, the night air nipping at their cheeks as they make their way through a city lit up.</p><p>Villanelle wants to hold her hand, wants the warmth of Eve’s fingers wrapped in her own.</p><p>So she reaches out.</p><p>*</p><p>Villanelle doesn’t stand awkwardly in Eve’s kitchen.</p><p>She takes off her boots, coat, and makes herself comfortable on the couch, the way it should be. Villanelle can smell the sweet thickness of tea brewing within minutes. It’s been a while since Eve’s made her tea, and she didn’t even ask Villanelle how she took it before she’d padded into the living room. She loves that Eve remembers something so forgettable. Something about her.</p><p>They sit side-by-side, cross-legged, nursing warm cups.</p><p>“Your furniture depresses me,” Villanelle says.</p><p>Eve eyes the room self-consciously. She had no interest in reading the tenancy to see if she could drill holes in the walls to hang stuff up, so she assumed the answer would be no. The walls are off-white, floors laminated a dull brown and there are blinds where Eve would prefer curtains to be. It’s a London apartment.</p><p>“I’m still moving in,” Eve says defensively.</p><p>Villanelle hums. Eve watches her mentally fill in the blank spaces of the room.</p><p>“That can be our first job,” Villanelle decides.</p><p>“You don’t like it?”</p><p>Eve prays for her deposit return. Once she gives Villanelle leeway with this place, there’ll be no going back.</p><p>“I love it,” Villanelle tells her. “It’s yours and it smells like you. But it’s boring, Eve. I don’t work well with boring.”</p><p>“You certainly work well with me.”</p><p>Villanelle tuts disapprovingly, eyes scolding Eve without the heat.</p><p>“You’re not boring,” she says. “You’re enticing.”</p><p>“Please,” Eve scoffs. “Everything interesting about me comes from you.”</p><p>Villanelle doesn’t entertain her words. She hands Eve her empty mug and gets to her feet. Eve follows suit, intentions of washing their cups in mind.</p><p>“Come on,” Villanelle says.</p><p>She slips past Eve and heads towards the hall. Eve sets the cups down on the coffee table, forgotten, and follows Villanelle before she can get her question out. It’s almost like Villanelle has her own gravitational pull that drags Eve closer to her.</p><p>“Where to?”</p><p>Villanelle’s smile is slow and sweet, like honey. “To take a bath.”</p><p>*</p><p>Eve watches her dump half a bottle of bubble bath into running water with wide eyes. She’s cold, the bone-deep kind that only a bath could fix.</p><p>Except this bath is going to have a Villanelle.</p><p>She watches the sleek curves of Villanelle’s body sink into the bubbles, her eyes slipping shut and her chest deflating at the satisfying heat. She stretches elegantly in the water, her arms laying across the lip of the tub. It makes her collarbones jut out beautifully.</p><p>Then, she lolls her head to the side and her eyes burn into Eve’s invitingly.</p><p>It’s the most erotic thing Eve’s ever seen.</p><p>She peels away each item of clothing slowly, thankful when Villanelle averts her gaze. Villanelle waits patiently for her, and Eve’s nerves fizzle out.</p><p>She steps in, holds back a hiss at the heat of the water and sinks down much less elegantly than Villanelle just did.</p><p>“Well?” Villanelle gives her an expectant look. “Come here.”</p><p>Eve does, can’t think of a reason not to. She twists her body and slips into the space between Villanelle’s thighs, back to chest. Villanelle is warm and silken, and Eve melts into her.</p><p>Villanelle’s hands slide over her, gentle and questioning.</p><p>“I can’t tell you when I realised, I didn’t want the life I was told to want, but that I wanted you,” Eve says. “I can tell you it was a long time ago, though.”</p><p>She feels Villanelle’s touch stutter over her skin. Villanelle grips at her, then, firm and possessive. Eve’s eyes slip shut and she lets herself be held the way Villanelle wants. The hot wetness of her skin, her touch, her nose in Eve’s hair. She wants it and she allows it.</p><p>“I want you,” Villanelle whispers, voice frail. “I want all of you.”</p><p>Eve slips her fingers through the ones resting on her thigh. They’re longer than hers, paler. They fit with hers perfectly.</p><p>They lay there until the water runs cool.</p><p>*</p><p>Later, Villanelle’s arm is a comforting weight around her, their legs are tangled together and Villanelle’s steady breathing kisses the nape of her neck.</p><p>She sleeps like the dead that night.</p>
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